The room was all in confusion for a moment; but nuns, like soldiers, feel the power of habitual discipline, and in a minute or two, mother assistant had restored order. She and the sick-nurse were supporting the prioress, and she called me to help her, as I was one of the strongest of the family, bidding the others betake themselves to the work-rooms, where was their place at this hour. We carried the lady to her own room, with the help of the two priests—we could hardly have done it without them, she was so heavy—and Father Austin, who was surgeon as well as priest, proceeded to bleed her. The blood would hardly flow at first, but at last it did, and the treatment was so far successful, that the mother opened her eyes, and swallowed the restorative which was put into her mouth, though she did not try to speak, and seemed to know no one. We undressed her, and got her into bed, and then mother assistant dismissed me, bidding me go and take the air a little for that I looked pale. Indeed I had had much ado to keep from fainting, as I had never seen any person bled before, but I summoned all my resolution, and held out. I went to the workroom where all the sisters were assembled round the frames, on which the new hangings were being worked for the Lady Chapel. We were permitted so much converse as was actually needful, at such times, and not uncommonly the liberty was stretched a little, for, as I said before, the discipline of our house was not over strict; but I never heard such a gabble as was now going on. As I entered and went to the press to find my own particular bit of work (which was a piece of needle lace on a small frame), intending to take it out into the summer-house, I was assailed by a volley of questions. "How is the reverend mother?" "Hath she spoken?" "Will she die?" "Will she live?" "Will she take the oath?" "Where is the mother assistant, and Mother Joanna?" It vexed me to see them all so ready to take advantage of their elder's absence, and I answered, rather sharply, I fear. "How many more? The mother is better, but she has not spoken, and no one knows whether she will live or die—much more whether she will take the oath. As to mother assistant, and Mother Joanna, it is very plain that wherever they are, they are not here. One could tell that half a mile off." Some of the sisters looked ashamed, but Sister Perpetua answered me sharply: "You are very pert, Sister Postulant." (That had been my rank for a good while now, for I had no other thought than to end my days at St. Magdalene's.) "It does not become you to reprove and check your elders." "It does not become her elders to give cause of reproof!" said Sister Bridget, a quiet, retiring woman, the elder of the party: "The child is right, and we have been to blame. As the oldest present, I must request you, sisters, to be quiet and attend to your work." "You are not the oldest present," answered Sister Perpetua. "Sister Anne is older than you."